Chapter Eight

Gus swallowed hard, wishing she could see their faces. She wanted to know which of her siblings had decided she was expendable.

With an effort of will, she pulled her gaze away from the cloaked figures to focus on the Tuann Kyle had found.

“Recognize him?” Gus asked Caius.

The camera had caught the Tuann in profile, but it was enough to identify him.

“Can’t say that I do,” Caius drawled with a negative shake of his head.

Gus blinked. Then blinked again. Taken so off guard that she wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction as she shot him a startled glance. “Are you sure?”

There was no way he didn’t recognize the Tuann in question. Even she knew who that was and she’d never met the man in question.

Caius lied.

Why?

Granted, it was odd for the emperor to send one of his people to track down Caius. That should have been Roake’s responsibility. Gus had expected Kira or at the very least one of Roake’s elders.

Not Baran.

Granted, the oshota didn’t serve the emperor directly, but he’d sworn allegiance to a man who did. On the other hand, Graydon was a son of Roake. And Caius was his mentor once upon a time. It was feasible that Graydon had decided to involve himself due to their previous relationship. Especially in light of his connection with Kira.

Still, Gus couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more going on here. Something murky and dangerous with the potential to drag her into a situation far outside her scope of expertise.

Graydon wasn’t known for his sentimentality. Until now, he’d been consider unimpeachable in matters of loyalty and duty.

Baran’s presence here crossed that line.

Unless Caius had done something worth punishment.

Gus let that settle.

Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back but rather that he couldn’t. He could have committed some crime or mistake that made returning impossible. In which case, Gus was screwed since it was his testimony she was counting on to keep her ass out of the fire.

“Of course,” Caius said in response to her earlier question. He eyed her askance as if suddenly suspicious. “The better question would be—do you recognize him?”

Gus’s eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “What makes you ask that?”

She didn’t like the way Caius was watching her. As if he could see the secrets she was trying to hide and was having fun teasing them out of her.

Caius gave a careful shrug. “Just a feeling.”

“Well, it’s wrong. I’ve never met that man.”

She’d just studied his dossier and others like it that the forty three had assembled. It’d been a tedious process, but she’d memorized not just Baran’s information and image but countless others. Anyone who could might one day threaten the forty three.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Gus snapped.

Caius nodded sagely. “You don’t know him. Got it.”

Gus scowled, not liking his tone. He sounded like he was humoring her.

This was a game to him, she realized. Well, she wasn’t playing anymore.

She turned away to find Kyle watching them with a bemused expression.

“What?” Gus barked.

“It’s just—I’ve never seen psychos flirt before. I don’t think I like it. It’s strange. And frightening.”

“You need your eyes checked. That wasn’t flirting,” Gus said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, jani,” Caius purred.

Again with the nickname.

Gus fixed him with a glare, repeating, “That wasn’t flirting.”

Caius held up his hands in surrender, his chuckle husky.

Reaching for patience, Gus ignored the Tuann to focus on Kyle. “What else?”

“What else what?

You cannot poison your accountant, Gussy, Gus ordered herself sternly. You need him. Titan cannot run without the funds he allocates.

“What else did you find?” Gus bit out through gritted teeth.

“Nothing.”

Gus stared. “What do you mean nothing?”

“Exactly as it sounds. I found nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing.”

“I understand what nothing means,” Gus ground out.

“Really? Because you seemed confused.”

Why did Gus never realize how irritating Kyle was until this very second?

Before she could do bodily harm, Caius intervened. “Where is the Tuann now?”

“Don’t know.”

It was Caius’s turn to reach for patience. “How can you not know?”

In answer, Kyle pressed play on the clip. On screen, the meeting between the two humans and the cloaked figures ended. The two in cloaks rose, taking their leave.

To Gus’s surprise, Baran didn’t immediately follow. He lingered, waiting for the humans to finish their discussion before they too departed.

Baran was slick. He made sure to time his exit with several other humans so as to make it difficult to tell who he was following. Even going so far as to keep a fair amount of distance between himself and this quarry.

Gus wasn’t sure if either of the other two men in the room with her realized what he was doing as he trailed the humans out of the Hopper. It was painfully obvious to her. But that was in large part due to the cloaked figures that had triggered her instincts.

“The cameras lose him shortly after this,” Kyle explained.

Sure enough, a moment later, the crowd momentarily obscured Baran’s figure from notice. When it cleared, there was no Baran.

And no evidence of the humans he was following.

“I’m not surprised.” Caius shifted, his massive shoulder brushing Gus’s as he studied the video clip. “Our technology outmatches yours in almost every arena.”

Ah, yes. The arrogance of a Tuann male. Unmatched only by their condescension.

“More like your magic,” Kyle muttered.
“It’s not magic,” Caius corrected. “Though I’m sure it may seem like that to a species whose own technology is pitifully lacking.”

It was difficult for Gus to keep her snort to herself. It was rich for a Tuann to make such a claim when a good portion of their so called “technology” was powered by an unseen force that wasn’t widely understood even by their own people.

A force that looked an awful lot like magic.

Kyle leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “Ah, yes, the ol’ ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’ argument.”

At Caius’s baffled expression, Gus explained. “It’s a quote from Arthur C. Clarke. A science fiction author prominent in the twentieth century.”

Though the most famous of his three laws, Gus had always been a little more partial to the second which stated that “the only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.”

“Sounds like a wise man,” Caius said.

Considering people still used that quote despite the many centuries that had passed, Gus would say so.

“I wouldn’t waste your time looking for that Tuann. You won’t find him again. He’s long gone,” Caius informed them.

Unfortunately, Gus was in agreement. It was something of a miracle that Kyle had managed to stumble across him in the first place.

“He’s not the only Tuann on the station,” Gus said.

Caius shot her a probing glance. “How do you know that?”

Gus kept her features still and her expression bland. “Gut feeling.”

He wouldn’t believe her if she told him about her special ability. How the plants on this station were as gossipy as a bunch of old folks who had nothing better to do than to share stories. And even if somehow he did manage to buy that, she still wouldn’t have told him. Some things were better off kept to yourself. A nice little trick you stored up your sleeve for when danger came knocking.

Ignoring the way Caius was studying her, Gus directed her attention to Kyle. “Well?”

“If there are other Tuann on Titan, they’re well hidden. I couldn’t find them.”

Caius’s forehead wrinkled a moment before he slowly narrowed his eyes at the human. “How are you so certain? According to you, you just started looking.”

Kyle’s mouth opened then closed, seemingly taken off guard by his own misstep. He blinked rapidly before his gaze shot to Gus.

She regarded him steadily, wishing to know the answer to that herself.

From Kyle’s own admission, not nearly enough time had lapsed for him to do a thorough job.

“I meant so far. I haven’t found them so far.” Kyle laughed awkwardly as he picked up the VR headset sitting next to him. “But I’ll keep looking. Right now, I mean. I’ll keep looking right now.”

“Is he always this weird?” Caius asked as Kyle jerked the headset over his head in an effort to escape.

Mentally, if not physically.

Gus nodded absentmindedly. “Always.”

The man was in his late twenties and still lived in the back room of his mom’s restaurant. He had no friends. No relationships outside of his mom and his bookie who he only interacted with via the virtual world.

Admittedly, Gus was rather friendless herself, but that was due to past trauma and her own personal choices.

She liked solitude. Peace and quiet and her plants.

Kyle was just a giant man child. Overly reliant on his mother and rarely accountable to anyone.

People like him were what made Gus think the Tuann weren’t entirely wrong when it came to their approach to adulthood. Gate keeping its entrance as a matter of pride and privilege. They understood that a person’s physical age wasn’t always an accurate indicator of their maturity. The Tuann’s rite of passage, while brutal, at least allowed for the different rates at which people mentally aged.

They didn’t toss their young into society unless they thought they could handle it. This allowed those like Kyle who’d never fully grown up to remain under their House’s protective care indefinitely.

Even forever, if necessary.

It was both a kindness and disservice. Without strife, there was no reason to evolve. A lot of plants required harsh conditions in which to grow and thrive. The same could be said of people as well.

If you were always handed everything you ever wanted, you had no reason to strive for more. You became complacent. Stuck in place. A green house flower reliant on others for your survival.

Kyle would have been better off if his mom wasn’t so protective. A little dose of harsh reality would have done wonders for him and his personality.

“Forward me what you’ve collected so far,” Gus ordered, thinking she might have expected too much from Kyle. If her siblings were easy to find, they would already be back in the hands of the tsavitee’s masters.

No.

This was something she had to deal with herself.

On the bright side, Baran’s presence had given her an idea of how to solve her Caius problem.

“I don’t know why you want it. There’s not much more to see,” Kyle complained, busying himself with something on his headset.

“I’m not paying you to ask questions. Do as you’re told,” Gus instructed.

Kyle was probably right, and there was nothing new to learn, but she’d prefer to verify that for herself. From this situation, it was clear that her siblings had grown arrogant. Time and their tendency to underestimate Gus may have made them careless. There might be something there. Some tiny clue that Kyle had missed. She wouldn’t know unless she poured over it more in depth.

“You’re not paying me at all. The gardener is,” Kyle grumbled.

“And the gardener sent me here.”

Gus’s gaze bore a hole in the side of Kyle’s face. She may not have had Kira’s abundance of power. To intimidate with merely a look, but she was no slouch. Especially when it came to humans.

Kyle suddenly became very still and quiet, pretending to be absorbed in whatever was on his headset.

“I could contact the gardener for you if you’d like,” Gus offered. It would be a pain and waste valuable time, but she’d do it. “I’m sure they’d be simply delighted to jump through your hoops.”

Kyle’s flinch was tiny. As if he knew what the consequences would be if he forced her to go out of her way.

The gardener, AKA her, paid him quite the tidy sum to be at their beck and call. He seemed to have forgotten that. Maybe it was time she reminded him in no uncertain terms just who held the power in this relationship.

“Yes, how about I do that. I’ll tell the gardener that you’d like them to relay their orders to you personally.”

Kyle’s response was a mumble.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Kyle cleared his throat. “I said that’s not necessary. I’ll do it.”

Gus nodded slowly. “I thought that was what you said.”

She turned to go, already impatient to be onto her next task. She’d wasted enough time on Kyle. It might be time to reconsider his role in her organization. Surely, there was someone else on Titan with the skills and knowledge base to act as her accountant/hacker.

“Send the file,” Gus ordered.

“I heard you the first time,” Kyle mumbled sulkily.

One side of Caius’s lips tilted upwards as Gus stopped to fix the man child with a disbelieving look.

“Also, inform me immediately when you find the other Tuann,” she gritted out.

Kyle lifted his headset half off his face, staring at her from under it. “You mean to send it to the gardener.”

Gus stared.

“That’s who requested it,” Kyle insisted, meeting her gaze with a stubbornness she found surprising given how weak willed he was normally. “Unless the gardener isn’t really your boss and you’re just an impostor pretending to be his emissary for some reason.”

His eyes narrowed as if he was giving serious weight to that argument. He nodded once to himself, his hand drifting to the chair arm and the panic button she suspected his mom had installed on it.

This little shit.

“Of course. My mistake. You’re right,” Gus said with a strained smile. “If the gardener thinks I should have it, they’ll forward it to me.”

Kyle waited a beat before moving his hand away from the panic button. He glared at Gus one last time before dropping his helmet back into place.

Gus turned and strode out of the room, barely noticing as Caius followed.

This encounter had decided her. Kyle definitely had to go.

“That child’s arrogance will get him killed one day,” Caius observed.

“By human standards, Kyle is considered an adult.”

“He doesn’t act like one.”

“No,” Gus said even though she wasn’t sure she agreed with that assessment anymore. His behavior in the last few minutes hadn’t been that of a child’s. He’d shown a cunning and deviousness that was more like what she’d expect from an adult.

It made her wonder if there was more to Kyle than she’d previously thought. If he, like Gus and Caius, wore a mask meant to make others underestimate him.

She pondered that question as they made their way back through the kitchen and into the main dining room where Anandra sat at a table, digging into the large plate of lasagna in front of him. Kyle’s mom sat nearby, her face wreathed in a surprisingly gentle smile that disappeared as soon as Gus and Caius stepped into view.

“Finish your business?” Kyle’s mom asked, rising.

Anandra’s gaze followed her, his face brightening when he caught sight of Gus and Caius.

“For now,” Gus said, her tone still polite.

Caius sniffed experimentally. “What is that?”

“Lasagna. There’s just cheese in it though. No meat.” Kyle’s mom smiled at Gus as she said that. “Would you like some?”

“Please.” Caius nodded eagerly. “It’s been ages since I ate.”

Kyle’s mom raised her eyebrows at Gus. “What about you?”

“None for me thank you. I have business to attend to.”

If she was going to implement her plan regarding Baran, she needed access to a computer she could trust. That meant a stop by her office. Her real office. Not the one she worked out of from her home.

Caius paused in the act of sitting down. “We’re going somewhere?”

“I’m going somewhere. You’re eating lasagna.”

Caius considered her with a slight scowl. “I’m not sure I like you going off on your own.”

Gus barely held back her scoff. “It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you then.” As if she needed his permission. “Stay here. Eat your food and gain strength. I’ll be back soon,” Gus ordered, stalking toward the exit.

Or Baran would.

Either way, this would all be over soon and she could return to the peaceful life to which she’d become accustomed.